Brotha Lynch Hung - Spitz Network lyrics

(feat. Cos, Yukmouth)

[Yukmouth:]

Yuk that project nigga, I was forced to hustle

I was forced to tussle drugs makin that coroner bubble,

Nigga back and forth to court in trouble

Cuffed by the task force in trouble

I won a Porsche on the double,

Pocket full of stones like Barney Rubble cursed by the devil

Birds on the level of a kingpin smirk on the bezel

I hit the hood inside my Esco-lade, make the ghetto say

Yuk so ghetto wid his ghetto ways

My ghetto pays, three and four bricks a day

Pop Cris and play, the hardest representin' the Bay

I fuck free puffin' trees inside me luxury way

Y'all ain't tellin' me shit I'm tryna fuck celebrity chicks

Yo rockin' a throwback seventy six, I got grand from eighty seven

Ya bitch nigga always said I'd be rich

The fans hit dead at the strip

I still get executive chips

Distribution deal executive shit

Yuk and Lynch what's better than this

Let the veterans spit

Infra red in the clip deaden ya lip

Ya bitch rappers better step shit up

Call me Texas Yuk, fuck a van I rock the Lexus truck

Wit the Smoke-A-Lot logo , uh oh

Get ya coastal on a promo

Yuk out of this world like Hans Solo

Rap-A-Lot mafioso cop birds from Acopolco

Real talk them not vocals

Fuck the cops and po-pos, headlocks and choke holds

They put me in again I pop the four-fours drop them homos

And learn that the glock is no joke

And learn that the Blocc is no joke

Slang rocks and snort coke, we cook kis like gumbo pots

We chop O-Z's to jumbo rocks, pay off Colombo cops

Beef with me the fo' won't stop

The gun expert let the tech burst the Spit Network

[Hook:]

It's the Spitz Network, the Spitz Network come on

The Spitz Network, the Spitz Network come on

The Spitz Network, the Spitz Network come on

The Spitz Network, the Spitz Network come on

The Spitz Network, the Spitz Network come on

The Spitz Network, the Spitz Network come on

The Spitz Network, the Spitz Network

[Brotha Lynch:]

call me the human gas nozzle, twenty four gallons a shell on you

Then I bail on you, somethin' smell on you you tell homie

I'm sicker than malt liquor wid the gin mix wid a fifth of brandy

And I'm hard like Chinese trigonometry you niggas can't understand me

When I, go to plan C and shift gears like a five point O

get clear, I'ma let one go, everybody get on the floor

I got that petrol, and my momma ain't around and I can't let go

And I'm bound to run up in a high school butt naked and let the techs go

Bound to give my otha two children and hit the retro

Catch me on a summer night, bleedin' ya sector

Eat 'em up like Hannible Lector leave blood on the walls

meat in my jaws, heat in my claws bleed up the walls

beat up your dog with these

Teflons and I'm so tired of bein' stepped on

And when I'm done with you niggas you'll be so tired of bein' crept on

In blue with my nigga, Yukmouth he in all red

I'll leave 'em all dead call me the hog head spit raw lead

[Hook]

[Cos:]

You see I hops outta somethin' bout as old as me

And then I drops off somethin' or I pops off somethin'

look 'all these hot dogs stuntin' I'm just playin' my part

Back streets back and forth,I like to stay in the dark

I pack heat that crack bubbles so just let the games start

Gimme a quarter, I got hustle I'll be ballin' by dark

So fuck the feds and the money, they just slowin' me down

Cause I be paranoid now when I be rollin' around

But I'm shark out the water call me deep sea rider

Hop out the lark wid four five and then I sneak three by ya

Before ya realise you aint hit my nigga Lynch beside ya

With the nozzle of his barrell stuffed an inch inside ya

Flood ya nostrils wid ya hollow we make ya bleed like hoes do

When we plug you wit revolvers, make you freeze like poles do

It ain't nothin' 'til ya partner's got the greasy nose too.

Holdin' his tummy for weeks at a time livin' like old dudes

Ya see down in the alley sippin' on old brew

It's the East levy road alley, strap up the old school

Nikes bout to confiscate paper like it was owed to me

You bitches hoes to me, you'll give the O's to me

These streets are gold to me, it's gettin' old to me

Now I drink straight out the bottle just like it's sold to me

Now I don't believe in tomorrow until it's shown to me

I put ya name on my hollows spit at ya homies

[Hook]

[Brotha Lynch:]

I'm bout to set it off like death scary scary,

Shoot up ya little house on the prarie

Eat out ya raw insides if ya dare me

Open up ya heart like a Christian be aware of me

Fixin' niggas like a hysterectomy, you won't get respect from me

Right up in ya chest wid these, heat up ya whole set wid these

T-O-E's cause I be offa these O-E's

Handin' out these nose bleeds like food stamps

I'm givin' niggas stomach cramps

You hear me and Yuk and C-O you start to panic

I'm a, manic depressant givin' motherfuckers chest lifts

choke niggas we the siccmade necklace

Better respect this before I

get to fuckin wid that wet shit and

dope get ya neck slit and

To the ninety sixty fo'

Drippin' blood off my hand G that's death

Without poverty jam straps in ya rib trust me

Better act right fuck a jack knife that night

Bullets'll hit ya crib shootin' through cushions in ya livin' room

You won't be livin' soon, it's goin' in 'em soon

from the asshole to ya womb nigga

Ya like that don't ya?, good, I'm right back dumpin

At that ass and I'm fast to flash

Cut you up like Grandmaster Flash

And I pass the ash, dumpin' lead toes at ya pad

And I bag the cash, you sit and wait for the Glad bags

and the aftermath, coroners come grab the bags and pack the truck

While I stack the bucks put you in the back of the truck nigga

That's what's up nigga

[Hook]